CHAPTER 1: The Night of Silence
The night the child died, even the wind seemed to lose its way through the village.
Nyasha sat outside her hut, her back resting against the cool mud wall, her baby tied securely to her with a faded cloth. Above her, the stars stretched endlessly, scattered like forgotten stories across the sky.
She had always found comfort in them.
But tonight, they were quiet.
Too quiet.
Her child stirred slightly, small fingers tightening against her back. Nyasha reached behind her and gently rested her hand over the child's leg.
"You feel it too," she whispered.
A strange heaviness pressed against her chest.
It was not fear—not yet—but something deeper. Something older.
Somewhere in the distance, a door creaked.
Then—
A scream tore through the night.
"Tariro!"
Nyasha ran.
By the time she reached her sister's hut, people had already gathered.
Inside, the child lay on a mat.
Too still.
Too quiet.
"What happened?" Nyasha asked.
Tariro slowly lifted her head.
Their eyes met.
Nyasha expected grief.
But what she saw instead made her blood run cold.
Blame.
"You always know things… don't you?" Tariro whispered.
The whispers had already begun.